


the fire still burning

by humanveil



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Alternate Scene, Episode: s02e03 Zombie Road, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: “Come here, kid,” Murphy says, watches 10K look back at him. There’s something gratifying about the flicker of hesitation, the flash of uncertainty. Something even better about the way he moves closer in spite of it.





	the fire still burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cutepoison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutepoison/gifts), [murdergatsby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/gifts).



> the smoking scene from zombie road, only reimagined with 10k, because my friends are horrible, horrible influences.

Murphy ignores it at first, the heat of 10K’s gaze. The feeling of being _watched_. It’s a familiar enough sensation by now, something he’s almost used to.

But then it doesn’t stop. The sensation sticks, itches its way up his neck, down his spine. His awareness of it grows with every passing second, makes it impossible to disregard.

He barely lasts a few minutes, his patience far too thin.  

“What?” Murphy snaps, rolls his head against the truck’s side to catch 10K’s eye. The kid tries to pretend he hadn’t just been watching, that Murphy hasn’t just caught him in the act, but it’s a piss poor attempt. Murphy can feel it, can see it. The way his gaze keeps flicking toward Murphy’s mouth, his hand. The Z Weed held between finger and thumb.

“Nothing,” 10K tells him, turns to canvas the roads. He shrugs lightly as he says it, tries to play it off as something casual, but it’s already clicked in Murphy’s mind.   

He huffs, loud. “Come here, kid,” Murphy says, watches 10K look back at him. There’s something gratifying about the flicker of hesitation, the flash of uncertainty. Something even better about the way he moves closer in spite of it. “You ever been high before?”

There’s a pause before 10K shakes his head, offers up a quiet admission of _nah_. Murphy sighs again.

He beckons him forward with a crook of his finger, brings the blunt to his lips as 10K settles in front of him. He’s staring again, curiosity and wonder flashing behind his eyes as Murphy inhales the drug, reaches out to curl his hand under 10K’s jaw.

The touch is delicate, almost mockingly so. Murphy holds him by the chin, the pad of his thumb brushing over the flesh, up to 10K’s bottom lip. He presses lightly, a silent order for 10K to open up, and the kid does. His lips part, his eyes fluttering shut as Murphy leans in, blows smoke directly into his mouth.

The stream is slow, steady. Murphy doesn’t move away immediately. He stays close, lets his nose graze 10K’s cheek, lets his breath ghost across skin. It’s fascinating, to see the kid react to intimacy. To closeness.

He enjoys it in a way he hadn’t expected.

When Murphy does pull back, it’s with a grin. He watches 10K inhale, exhale. Sees him cough: once, twice, three times. The sound quiet, throaty. He can’t help the chuckle that bubbles in his chest, the amusement at 10K’s dazed expression, the way he blinks up at him.

“More?” he asks, already placing the blunt back between his lips. Another pause, but then 10K is nodding, is leaning into it; ready, expectant.

Murphy doesn’t make him wait.


End file.
